


Little and Broken But Still Good (A timestamp for The Doors of Time.)

by felisblanco



Series: The Doors of Time [13]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1221337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Still smiling, Jared opens the bedroom door slowly only to stop short. Is that...?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little and Broken But Still Good (A timestamp for The Doors of Time.)

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place five years after [The Doors of Time](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/1090487.html)
> 
> I wasn’t sure I was gonna go there. But ever since Jensen accidentally started thinking about children in [Welcome To Where Time Stands Still](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/961064.html) I’ve had that scene *points up* lurking in a word document and well… why not? Title from the quote in _Lilo & Stitch_. :)  
> Beta’d by the wonderful [](http://candygramme.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://candygramme.livejournal.com/)**candygramme**.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, honey, even if you spent most of your time moping,” his mother says as she swings the car into the drop-off lane at the airport.

Jared rolls his eyes even if she has a point. As great as it’s been these last four days, sleeping in late and eating his mother’s wonderful cooking, he can’t wait to get back to New York and Jensen. Chris has kept him updated about every tiny little detail, including Jensen’s sleeping and eating habits (“He looks tired, but he won’t tell me what’s bugging him. Guess he’s just missing your giant ass.”), but Jared can’t help feeling anxious and out of sorts, like he’s stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time, the way he always feels when they’re apart. He doesn’t know if that’s normal for people as close as they are, or if it’s Jensen’s magic trying to pull him back home.

His mother smiles like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Next time bring Jensen. Family should be together at Thanksgiving.”

“He wanted to come,” Jared says patiently, “it’s not that.”

“I know, sweetie. But there’s no need for him to be so nervous. Who cares if a few things get broken, it’s not like we need them. He’s family. We’d rather have him.”

Jared smiles and leans over to kiss her on the cheek. As overbearing as she can be at times, he loves that she tries so hard to make up for the mother Jensen should have had.

The first and only time he brought Jensen, he spent half his time sleeping or zoning out and the other half constantly on edge, as if he was afraid he might do something he shouldn’t. Which of course meant that he did, like turning the lights off and on, opening and closing doors and closets, and bringing a lightning storm out of a clear blue sky when Jared’s mother asked him if he’d heard from his mother recently. And yes, he had broken half a dozen of Jared’s mother’s beloved collection of ceramic angels.

Jared did warn her before they arrived, knowing perfectly well how cluttered his childhood home was with breakable things, but the moment they walked in, and he saw nothing had been moved, he knew she still didn’t believe. Well, after all those years of denying what she’d seen the day that Jensen went away, she sure got plenty of evidence during their five-day visit. To this day Jared still doesn’t know if it was normal meeting-the-parents jitters, or if maybe the whole experience reminded Jensen too much of when they were young. Jared’s mother did everything she could to make Jensen feel at home, like bake her famous cinnamon buns, but if anything it only made things worse. His mother having sold Jared’s old piano when he moved out years ago didn’t exactly help either. They had to make due with a piano program on Jared’s laptop which was almost worse than nothing.

It wasn’t how Jared had wanted to introduce his mother to Jensen’s magic, as it was more nerve wracking than actually amazing, but Jensen more than made up for it at their wedding a few months later. Since then she keeps calling every couple of weeks, just to talk to Jensen about gardening. His advice mostly takes the form of, “The roses like Mozart,” and, “No, no, not jazz! Orchids hate jazz. Try baroque. And cookies. They really love the smell of cookies. Chocolate, yes, that should work.” Jared kinda doubts it has any effect, but as long as his mother and his husband have something to bond over, he’s not about to intervene.

“You can even bring Chris if you think that will make Jensen feel better,” she says, frowning a little.

Jared hides his grin. Chris can be a charmer when he wants to be, but only for so long. A whole week in Canada had proven a bit too much for him, his grumpiness had come out full force on the last day, shocking Jared’s mother who’d up to that point had praised him as the only proper gentleman of the New York party.

“I’ll tell him. And you know, you could always come visit us. The plane goes both ways.”

She looks slightly chastened but not nearly enough to make any promises. For some reason she seems to think the trip from New York to LA is a lot shorter than the one from LA to New York. She hugs him tight, making sure he has the box of cookies for Jensen before saying a tearful goodbye, and only after he promises to text her as soon as he lands. As his mother drives away, Jared feels a tug at his heartstrings but not as strong as the one pulling him back home. With a last deep breath of the warm California air he turns away from the sidewalk and heads into the airport.

His flight keeps getting delayed. By the time Jared finally steps out of the cab outside their building it’s later than late. The city is already half asleep, dark and damp, with late autumn holding its breath for winter, but way up high a bright light shines from a single window. Jared smiles, despite being so worn out he feels like he might fall asleep in the elevator on the way up. Either Jensen is still awake or he’s forgotten to draw the curtains again and is right now treating their neighbors to an amazing display of what they probably think is some kind of high-tech 3D home cinema.

It’s quiet when he lets himself into their apartment but as he’s putting away his coat and shoes he hears faint singing. He stands still for a moment, straining his ears. It’s a lullaby of some sort, he thinks, although not the slow sad one Jensen kept playing the first horrible few months after his mother showed up. This one is sweet, loving. Jensen’s voice is tender, the way Jared can’t remember ever hearing before. Almost hesitant, like he’s afraid the words might stir the universe the way his music does.

Jensen has a nice singing voice, even and steady if a little hoarse, but he almost never sings out loud. He hums all the time, classical music he hears in his head, is considering for class, or just composing, but he hardly ever sings songs with lyrics. Hearing him now Jared can’t help wondering if maybe Jensen is just shy about singing in public. He supposes the piano gives a little distance; even if the music comes from Jensen’s fingers, his heart and his head, it doesn’t come directly out of his body, the way a song does.

Still smiling, Jared opens the bedroom door slowly only to stop short. Is that...?

“Jensen,” he says stunned, “please tell me that’s not a real baby.”

Jensen’s head snaps up, eyes looking guilty and wide in a flushed face. “It’s not real!” He glances down again at the infant sleeping soundly in his arms. His face softens and he strokes gently over the child’s closed eyes with his fingertips before smiling sadly. “It’s not real. I was just...” He sighs and just like that the child evaporates. Jensen’s arms fall slack by his sides and he stands slumped for a moment before squaring his shoulders and looking up with a fake smile. “It was nothing.”

“Jensen,” Jared says gently but Jensen just shakes his head and looks away.

Jared sighs, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, just in case. “I thought you didn’t want children?” he says cautiously.

“You want them,” Jensen says awkwardly, clearly sidestepping the question.

Jared hesitates. “Yes. I do. But you told me you didn’t. And I’m fine with that. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

Jensen swallows. “It’s not that I don’t want any. I can’t. You know I can’t. Not with...” He waves a hand in front of himself, jaw tight. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbles nervously.

“Hey.” Jared reaches out and pulls Jensen into his arms. “Don’t do that. This?” He waves his hand theatrically, imitating Jensen. “Is part of why I love you. Don’t diss that part. It’s a nice part.”

Jensen breathes out and relaxes, arms coming up to wrap around Jared’s waist. “You only say that because it gives you great orgasms,” he mutters.

“Oh, that’s not what gives me orgasms. Your pretty mouth and tight ass are what give me orgasms, honey. Do we need to have the sex ed. talk again?”

Jensen laughs. It sounds a little broken, but it’s better than the self hating abyss Jared could tell he was heading into moments earlier.

“You weren’t supposed to see,” Jensen says after a while, sounding embarrassed. “You were…” He stops. “You’re home,” he says confused. “You were gone. You went away to, to see your mom. But you’re here. You are here, right?”

“I’m here,” Jared says reassuringly. “I only just got back. My flight got delayed. I called Chris on the way, he left an hour ago. He said you were a bit distracted so you probably just forgot.”

Jensen breathes out. “Oh. Good. I mean, not good your flight got delayed. I just meant…”

“I know what you meant.”

Jared pulls back a little so Jensen can see that he’s smiling, and that he’s actually really there. Apparently there’s a difference between him and the Jared Jensen talks to when the real one isn’t there, just like Jared can tell the difference between Jensen and the Jensen he sees in his dreams or the dreams they share. Jensen won’t tell him exactly what makes the other Jared different, but Jared has a suspicion he looks more like the adult version Jensen used to see in him when they were younger. The amazing person Jared was supposed to become, and Jensen insists he is, but Jared himself is pretty sure is nothing but a figment of Jensen’s imagination.

“Mom says hi. She sent cookies.”

Jensen smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and his gaze keeps slipping, like he’s fighting the urge to flee into his head. “Your mom is the best. I’m sorry I couldn’t go.”

“Everyone missed you. Especially me.” Jared kisses him softly then pulls him close and just holds on. He can feel a small tremor run through Jensen’s body, and when he looks out of the window he sees it has started to rain, the moon hovering behind a hesitant cloud. “Four days is definitely too long to be away from you.”

“I missed you, too,” Jensen says, his words muffled into Jared’s shirt. “Chris had a damn cold. He snored every night. It was really annoying.”

Jared laughs quietly. For a while they just stand there, both too tired to move. Jared’s dying to just tumble into bed, wrap himself around Jensen and sleep until noon, but he knows if he doesn’t say anything now, it will only be harder to bring it up tomorrow. “Jensen…”

Jensen pulls back instantly. “You must be tired. We should go to bed,” he says quickly, starting to turn away, but Jared won’t let him.

“I’m fine. Jen,” he says carefully, holding Jensen’s wrist, “we should talk about this.”

Jensen shakes his head, jaw tight. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yeah, there is,” Jared insists. He’s wanted to talk about this for a long time, he’s not letting it go that easily. “If it’s something we both want–”

“No! I can’t risk it! Don’t you _get_ it?” Jensen snaps, and a lightning bolt cracks across the sky as he jerks himself loose.

Thunder rolls in the silence that follows. They never fight. Well, almost never, and then only about stupid stuff that doesn’t really matter, like Jensen forgetting his phone at home, or Jared leaving potential missiles on the kitchen counter. Never about something this important. They stand staring at each other, Jensen is trembling, his eyes too bright in the darkening room as black clouds gather on the ceiling. Jared thinks maybe he should be afraid, after all, Jensen might lose control, but he just feels tired, and hurt and bewildered.

“No, I don’t,” he says honestly, because he doesn’t, not really. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“The worst?” Jensen laughs harshly. “The worst is just the tip of the damn iceberg. _Everything_ can happen. What if the child turned out like me?” He looks close to tears now, lips twisting into a hard line. “You don’t know what it was like, my-my childhood. It was, it was… I would _never_ do that to a child. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Okay. I get that,” Jared says gently, wishing for the hundredth time that he could go back in time and kick Jensen’s parents for what they did to him. “But a child only needs one biological father, Jensen. It doesn’t have to be your DNA. We can use mine. Or we can adopt. There are so many possibilities.”

Jensen blinks slowly, like that hadn’t even occurred to him. But then his shoulders straighten, and he sets his jaw, shaking his head. “I’m not safe, Jared. I can’t control... me. What if I hurt her? What if I, I don’t know, set her on fire or blow her up?”

“What if I accidentally step in front of a bus while holding the child?” Jared asks back, ignoring for now that Jensen seems to have decided they’re having (or, more accurately, _not having_ ) a girl. “What if I drop it on its head? Jen, a thousand awful things can happen to a kid without any magic ever touching it, but that doesn’t keep people from having them.” He tries for a smile, even if his heart is hurting, knowing Jensen _still_ sees himself as a bad person after everything he’s been through. “If anything I’d say a child has a better chance of surviving with your magic protecting it than with me being the klutz I am.”

Jensen’s eyes soften. The clouds on the ceiling stop rumbling, turning light grey then white as they slowly dissipate. “Jared...” he admonishes, just like Jared knew he would, because Jensen refuses to let Jared put himself down, but there’s a cautious, contemplative look in his eyes. Like he can’t help imagining what it would be like, even if he’s trying so very hard not to. Jared grins, and Jensen bites back a smile, shaking his head in exasperation. And just like that the fight is over.

“Just... think about it.” Jared pulls Jensen close again, wrapping his arms around him. “Because you can’t tell me you don’t want it. I saw the way you looked at that baby. You were already in love with it, and it wasn’t even real.”

“Shut up.” Jensen lets out a shaky laugh. “She had your eyes, ok?” he says and Jared can feel the warmth of his flushed cheek seeping through the thin cotton of his shirt. “And it’s your fault anyway. You’re the one that brought it up. I was talking about flowers, and you started talking about babies and… “ He stops, breathing in sharply. “Except it wasn’t you,” he continues in a quiet voice. “It was just me. Sorry. I keep forgetting.”

Jared is confused for a moment but then he gets it. It’s not the first time Jensen’s subconscious mind uses Jared when Jensen needs someone to talk to. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have,” he points out. “I just keep those thoughts usually to myself.”

Jensen pulls back and looks at him. “Really? Why?”

“Well, I don’t want to upset you, because I know you worry about me wanting those “normal” things. Which really, no need, okay? I’d rather take you any day. But yeah, when Sandy told me she was pregnant I felt kinda… jealous, I guess. Not like that,” he hastens to add when Jensen gets a familiar worried look in his eyes. Doesn’t matter that it’s been five years and Sandy is married now or that Jared wouldn’t trade a single day with Jensen for one with her, kids or no kids, Jensen can’t seem to let go of the old fear that Jared will leave him for a “normal” life. Seriously, who’d choose normal when they could have this? “Jealous of her becoming a parent. And it made me wonder what it would be like if we had a child.”

He sits down on the bed, dragging Jensen along to sit beside him. “Honestly, I think it would be amazing,” he says, smiling at Jensen, who hitches his breath and looks away, his emotions once again getting the better of him. “You and me, raising a child? Can you imagine what that child would grow up to be like?”

“Traumatized? Scarred for life?” Jensen shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “She would talk about, about me, about our life to her friends and the teachers, and they would think there was something wrong with her, that she was crazy, and they would take her away and put her, put her–”

“Stop it.” Jared sighs, taking Jensen’s hands in his and waiting until he looks up again. Seems Jensen has thought about this a lot more than he let on. Thought, and worried and imagined every kind of worst-case scenario. “They would think our child has the most wonderful imagination, the kind they wish they had. And then, as soon as it’s old enough, we explain why we don’t talk about your magic to strangers. Because it scares people, because they can’t understand it, not because it’s wrong.”

Jensen swallows. “Jared, we would be teaching her to lie.”

Jared shrugs. “Lies are only bad if they hurt people. This one is to protect us. Protect _her_ ,” he adds, giving in to Jensen’s apparently decided pronoun. “She will understand that.” When Jensen still looks skeptical Jared says, “Your sister is fine, right?”

Jensen huffs. “She’s the only one in the family who is.”

“Because she grew up with you. She knew what you were, right from the very beginning. And she never tried to deny it, or you, like your parents did. Any issues she may have, they’re not because of you, they’re because of your parents and the way you two were raised.”

“Because of me,” Jensen points out.

“Because your parents had no idea what to do. So they did everything wrong. I’m sorry, Jensen, but you know it’s true.” Jensen looks away but he doesn’t argue. “Well, we are not going to do that, because we know better. We know it’s not a curse, we know it’s not evil. We know it’s just magic, and it’s amazing. Just think about it, a magical world, right in her home? It’s every child’s dream come true. And most of all, we know _you_ are… you are wonderful, Jen.” He lays his hand on Jensen’s cheek, making him turn his head so Jared can hold his gaze. “You are. And I know you would be an amazing father. Any child would be lucky to have you in its life.”

Jensen swallows. “You would be her father,” he says shakily. “You would be, you would be the best, the best father any, any child could, could…”

He hitches his breath and just like that the baby is back but in Jared’s lap, making him fumble and almost drop the infant on the floor when he realizes what’s happened.

“Shit. Sorry, sorry,” Jensen stammers. “I didn’t mean to…”

He moves to take the baby from Jared, or maybe just wave it away, but Jared shakes his head. “I’ve got it,” he says, laughing a little. “I… wow. It, it… Jesus!”

He slides his palm carefully under the baby’s head and lifts it up into the crook of his arm. Then all he can do is stare. At the round cheeks and the pink little mouth and the long eyelashes framing impossibly deep blue eyes that gaze up at him in wonder. He has to remind himself that it’s not real, it’s not real, but Christ, it– no, _she_ – is so tiny and has such soft skin, and she smells like milk, and clean cotton, and baby hair, and, God, yes. He wants this. He wants this more than anything.

He looks over at Jensen who gazes back, looking almost fearful. His eyes flicker to the baby, and there it is, the look Jared saw when he first came in to the room. Such longing and wistfulness, and love so deep he knows without a doubt that Jensen feels the exact same way he does.

“Jensen,” he says and waits until Jensen can finally tear his eyes away from the child, the daughter he’s made out of thin air, because he believes he can never have one of his own. “I really want us to have a child. Do you?”

Jensen bites his lip. He swallows then nods.

Jared can feel his face split into a grin. He’s giddy, and terrified, and excited, and terrified, and happy and absolutely fucking _terrified_! “Okay. Okay. So… I guess we need to figure out how we can make that happen.”

He looks down at the child in his arms. She has fallen asleep now, eyelashes dusting her rosy cheeks, a pink tongue sticking out between her lips. She’s so beautiful it makes his heart hurt. He kisses her tenderly on the forehead, closing his eyes when the sweet smell of her soft skin tickles his nose. She’s not real, she’s not real, he reminds himself once again, but he still feels like a monster when he looks up at Jensen and gives him a determined nod. Jensen swallows and nods as well, then strokes the child tenderly on the cheek before closing his eyes and just like that the baby is gone. Jared breathes out, his arms dropping awkwardly by his sides. He can still feel the heat of the small body and the softness of her skin, like velvet and rose petals. It’s stupid how much it hurts.

“You really think we can?” Jensen whispers, sounding just as scared and excited as Jared feels.

Jared smiles and nods, even if he’s already panicking about all the obstacles he knows they will face. Like Jensen’s history, his time Inside, it’s probably on his record somewhere. And truth be told, he doesn’t even know what state laws in New York say about gay adoptions. “Yes. I really think so. It will probably take a while but it will happen, I believe that.”

Jensen breathes out. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” Then adds with a shaky smile. “Daddy Jared.”

Jared laughs. “Papa Jensen.” Then laughs even louder when Jensen frowns. “You can pick something else. We’ll figure it out.”

Jensen smiles. “Yeah. We will.”

~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~

“Ok, first off? You are _insane_.”

Jensen can’t help flinching, which makes Jared glare viciously at Chad, but he just raises his hands in mock defense. “What? I’m not talking about his thing. I’m talking about the both of you. Why would you want a kid? Isn’t that the beauty of gay sex, no one gets knocked up?”

“That what Sophia thinks?” Jared asks pointedly, and Chad sits back, all humor gone.

“Dude, not cool. My wife is a beautiful goddess. Her body is a _temple_. Even if it’s all bloated and huge like a whale right now, she is carrying my child, and I will kill you if you…” He stops, looking awkward. “Okay, you got me. I’m a dick. Sorry. So, you want to be daddies?”

“Jared,” Jensen clarifies. “I mean, his sperm, not mine. I–”

“Stop. Please, _please_ don’t talk to me about Jared’s sperm! I don’t want to think about his jizz.” Chad shudders.

Jensen rolls his eyes. “Fine. If we can get someone to carry for us, Jared would be its biological father, not me.”

“Get it. Wouldn’t wanna risk her giving birth to a unicorn or something,” Chad says, nodding solemnly then frowns. “Even if it would probably help if it was yours, since you being certified crazy and all might make it harder for you to adopt. I think. Family law’s not really my area. But everyone knows any asshole can _have_ a kid, but you have to jump through a lot of hoops to adopt one.”

“Would he need to adopt?” Jared asks, grabbing hold of Jensen’s twitching hand under the table. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.

“No, but if he doesn’t it would just be your kid, not his. So if you get a divorce or you die–“

“Chad!” Jared hisses, glaring, but Jensen squeezes his hand reassuringly, even if the word is enough to make him feel sick.

“Jared, he’s right. We need to think of these things. Life isn’t exactly predictable.”

“I’m not gonna divorce you,” Jared says heatedly. “ _Ever_. And if you even think about divorcing me I will kick your ass.”

Jensen smiles at him. “I know. And I don’t want to think about losing you in _any_ way either but… This is not just about us.”

Jared looks like he wants to object, but then he breathes out and nods. “Yeah, I know. I just… We know how it’s gonna end, remember? You and me on that bench in the park. _That’s_ our future. And by that time the kid will be plenty old enough to take care of itself.”

“Not everything I see is actually premonition, Jared,” Jensen reminds him gently. “You know that. Sometimes it’s just wishful thinking.” He smiles and pats himself mentally on the back when Jared smiles back.

“Okay, that’s sickeningly romantic. I think I might puke. How about we get back on track?” Chad says exasperated.

Jared just flips him the finger and leans over, kissing Jensen softly on the lips. They both grin when Chad huffs impatiently, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s learned by now that only spurs them on.

“Ok, let’s talk adoption,” Jared says lightly when he finally lets Jensen go. “Jensen’s records from that place don’t exist anymore. So even if they find out he was there, how much does it really matter? I mean, is it actually illegal for someone with a history of mental illness to adopt?”

Chad frowns and clicks through some files on his computer. “Not in New York, no, but I’m guessing it depends. Like I can’t imagine them handing a kid over to someone that’s a total psycho. Not saying he is,” he hastens to add when Jared glares at him, “just an example. Dude, seriously, I don’t know. I told you. I’m not in family law.”

“Okay, so if it comes up, we tell them the official story, what you told Juilliard,” Jared tells Jensen. “A misdiagnosed case of narcolepsy. It fits, and the school will back you up if we need confirmation. Then all we need to do is convince them you’re good now.”

Jensen shakes his head. “But I’m not, Jared. I’m not good. I’ll never be good. Fuck, I don’t know why I thought…”

“Hey, stop it,” Jared says calmly. “We said we would try. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But we’re gonna fucking try, okay?”

Jensen swallows. “Okay. Yeah.”

“You want this.”

“Yes. I do. But…”

“That’s all that matters right now. If it doesn’t work, we’ll deal with that. But right now let's focus on how we might make it work.”

Jensen sits back down. He feels tired. And stupid for getting his hopes up. He tunes out Jared and Chad talking about legal procedures he doesn’t understand anyway and stares out the window instead, watching people walk by. Couples, friends, families… A woman with a small baby strapped to her chest. He feels a sting in his heart, and a sharp smell of aniseed and kittens. He follows the pair with his eyes until they disappear around a corner. Then he sighs and stands up.

“I’m just gonna go for a walk. Clear my head a bit.”

Jared looks up at him. “You okay?” he asks quietly.

“It’s just a lot to think about,” Jensen says, because they made a promise not to lie to each other or hide things, even when it feels easier to just smile, and lie and say everything is fine. “But I’m okay. I have my phone.”

“Okay,” Jared says. “We’ll be here maybe another half hour.”

“I’ll stay near the pond,” Jensen says, since they both know he probably won’t be back in time. Jensen has never been able to grasp the concept of time. To him everything moves at its own pace, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes not at all. It feels ridiculous to him that everything supposedly follows the same schedule, a certain number of hours, and minutes and seconds, preset by a device that is made up of cogs and springs. Or tiny computers these days.

He kisses Jared on the top of his head and gives Chad a dismissive nod before walking out. It’s a chilly December afternoon, only two weeks until Christmas, so he shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat, a nice wool one that Jared’s mother had Jared bring him as an early Christmas present. Apparently she’d been worried about him getting cold on his many walks in the park. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wouldn’t matter, he can’t get sick anyway. Besides, he has to admit it’s a nice looking coat, warm and comfortable. And he looks very hot in it, according to Jared who has a hard time taking his eyes off Jensen every time he puts it on.

He loves this time of year, with the trees decorated in lights, making the park look like the venue of a fairytale wedding. As wonderful as their wedding had been up in Canada he can’t help thinking it would have been nice to have it here, in the park, surrounded by all his fairy friends and the birds and animals he’s gotten to know over the years. Of course, _now_ they could, he thinks and rolls his eyes. He’s happy about the long awaited legalization finally making it through two years ago, every added state is a victory, it just would have been nice to get it four months earlier.

He walks slowly, keeping close to the pond as promised. Every now and then someone nods or smiles at him, and he nods or smiles back. Sometimes they greet him by name, but they never seem to mind that he doesn’t reciprocate. Some of them are – or were – his students, but most are just people who frequent the park as he does. Not that he can tell them apart. He doesn’t really have a memory for names. Or faces. Or people.

He’s happy to find his favorite bench empty. It usually is, which he thinks is odd, seeing as it’s the best spot to sit and watch the birds, and the people and the water fairies playing on the pond. Jared has this weird theory that people actually move to make way for him, on the subway, and in cafés, or wherever he favors a certain place. Which is of course ridiculous. He’s never asked anyone to move aside for him, so why would they? Jared has some odd ideas about how his magic works. Even if he has more control now, he doesn’t really do much. Things happen, because they want to. They probably do to other people as well, they just don’t notice, because they don’t know it’s there.

It’s nice to just sit back and let his surroundings fade away. Sometimes the world around him gets to be too much. All those people with their feelings and thoughts, and just _life_ , nature in all its forms. Everything is so _alive_ , every leaf, every tree, every single insect buzzing through air. Even now, with his eyes closed and most of the park sleeping until spring, the world is dancing around him, never stopping, never even slowing down.

He opens his eyes to find he’s no longer alone. There’s a girl sitting on the other end of the bench, staring out over the pond, deep in thought. When he squares his shoulders, as they’re getting a bit stiff in the cold, she blinks and looks over, then smiles warmly at him. He smiles politely back, and she starts laughing. Not cruelly, more like this is something they’ve done before.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she says, and he feels embarrassed, like he always does when he’s caught faking it. “No, it’s okay,” she assures him. “I really didn’t expect you to. It’s been years.”

Something in her voice plucks at the playlist in his head, shifting through the pieces until he finally finds it. Chopin’s _Prelude in D-flat, op.27_... no, _28_. He frowns, drumming his fingers on the bench, humming the first few stanzas.

Her eyes widen, and then she really is laughing, sounding delighted. “You _do_ remember!”

He shakes his head. “Just the music, I’m afraid. I forget things so easily, but, music, I remember music. It was good. You were really good. I remember that.”

She’s still smiling, but it smells like wet grass and sadness and after a moment she looks away. He follows her gaze to a couple of ducks swimming by. “Everything okay?” he asks. Even if he doesn’t remember her, she’s still one of his students, and he’s always felt responsible for them.

She looks at him and smiles. “Yeah. It’s nothing. How are you? And… Jacob, was it?”

“Jared,” he says, and his smile turns warm as it always does whenever he thinks of his Jared. “We are great. He is amazing. I couldn’t be happier.”

His smile falters when he remembers why he’s here, why he had to take a walk by himself instead of staying with Jared. Because watching Jared fight for something that he can’t see ever happening hurt so damn much, he was afraid he might accidentally do something if he didn’t take a breather.

“That’s not a very happy smile,” she says, sounding worried, then freezes, looking mortified. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay.” He drums his fingers on his knee but stops abruptly when he notices a daffodil peeking out of the frozen earth. “We’re fine, really.” He sighs. “We’ve been talking about having children. Me and Jared. It’s not that easy when there’s no uterus, I can tell you that.” She laughs, but it sounds a little strained. That was probably more information than she cared for. “And,” he continues, even if he knows it’s bad form to dump your problems on a stranger, he just has so much need to talk to someone who isn’t Jared or Chris, or god forbid, Chad, he can’t help himself, “because... well, I’m not exactly normal.”

She looks at him then, not startled but surprised, like it’s something she always knew, but didn’t think _he_ knew. “You were the best teacher I ever had,” she says. “Even if you were… not exactly normal. Probably _because_ you weren’t exactly normal” She smiles. “I think you would make an amazing father.”

He gives her a grateful smile. “That’s what Jared says. But I don’t think other people will see it that way.” He stops, swallowing the lump in his throat. “And it will break his heart when they tell us no.”

She reaches over and takes his hand that he hadn’t even noticed he was clenching into a fist. “And yours,” she says softly. It’s not a question.

Suddenly it feels hard to breathe. “And mine.”

A drop of rain lands on his nose. She looks up in surprise, and he uses the opportunity to pull himself together, breathing deeply and mentally shooing the clouds away. When she looks back at him he manages a smile, and she smiles back with sympathy, and something else he can't quite identify, sadness maybe. Guilt?

Before he has the chance to ask her, a hand lands gently on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, and he looks up to find Jared standing behind the bench, smiling at him worriedly. “Hey, you okay?”

He nods and tilts his head toward the girl. “Jared, this is…” He stops, awkward. “Sorry.”

She squeezes his hand one last time before standing up and facing Jared. “Lydia,” she says and they shake hands. “I’m an old student of Jensen’s.”

“Jared.”

She smiles. “I know.” She looks down at Jensen. “It was really nice to see you again,” she says. “I hope everything works out.”

“Thank you. Me, too. And…” He suddenly realizes he never even asked her what she was doing now. “You. You’re good?”

She smiles but it smells sad, like cold wet tealeaves. “Yeah, I’m good. I hope I’ll see you around,” she says and with a nod she hurries off, leaving them to gaze after her, a little bewildered.

“Was it something I said?” Jared asks confused. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No. I don’t think so.” Jensen frowns. “Lydia? That’s what she said, right?”

“Yeah. You don’t remember her?”

“No, I do. Well, her music. I remember her music.” He shakes his head. “I’ll look her up on Monday.”

Jared walks around the bench and sits down beside Jensen, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. He’s warm from the walk, even if his face is cold when they kiss. “Chad sends his best.”

Jensen snorts. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Okay, he doesn’t,” Jared admits. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t think it. He’s not so bad, he’s just a bit… rough around the edges.”

Jensen shakes his head in amusement. “If you say so.”

“How are you, really?” Jared asks quietly. “I saw those rainclouds, so don’t bullshit me.”

Again Jensen wants to lie, but he can’t. A promise is a promise. “I just… I don’t think it will happen,” he says, and every word hurts his throat. “I would have seen it, right? I mean, some hint at least. But there’s always just you and me. A dog sometimes.” He can hear Jared swallow, he still isn’t over Harley’s passing, even if it’s been more than a year. “But not… never any kids. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t see everything, Jen,” Jared reminds him.

“No, I know, but… shouldn’t I have seen something?”

“The future can be altered. Remember? You thought you would end up alone.” Jared squeezes Jensen’s shoulders reassuringly.

Jensen gives him a brief smile. He doesn’t want to admit that sometimes he wonders if that one will come true, that something will happen to Jared and… Frost crackles the leaves under his feet, and he pushes the thought away before Jared notices.

“Just, don’t give up, okay? We haven’t even tried yet.”

Jensen smiles and nods, and then they walk home, hand in hand, with fake smiles and silence screaming their worries.

~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~

It’s a lazy Sunday morning two days later. Jensen is still in his pajamas, bed-haired and bleary eyed, reading the papers by the kitchen table with a cup of steaming coffee and a plate of burnt toast. Jared is just out of the shower after a quick run in the park to clear his head. Jensen felt him get up this morning but feigned sleep, because he just wasn’t ready to face Jared’s hopeful smile yet.

He dreamed about the baby again last night. He made sure to shut Jared out, because, if anything, it hurt more seeing Jared hold her that one time than it does every time he gets to cradle her in his own arms. He feels like a criminal, like a horrible thief for stealing Jared’s fatherhood, his future family away from him. No matter what Jared says, there must be times when he wonders what it would be like if he’d stayed with Sandy, if the baby she’s expecting was his. How could there not be?

The doorbell rings, and Jensen looks up, frowning. They don’t really get that many visitors aside from Chris, and he’s out of town. Touring with his and Steve’s band that he insists is just a hobby but seems to be taking more and more of his time. It’s good, he was getting bored just managing the bar now he doesn’t have to look after Jensen 24/7. Even if Jensen feels possibly maybe a little bit abandoned. Not that he’ll ever tell Chris that. Or Jared. Especially Jared.

“Can you get that?” Jared yells from the bedroom, probably still trying to decide what to wear, the princess. Jensen sighs and stands up, putting the coffee mug and plate of toast in the cupboard, just in case. Surprise visits aren’t always good. For all he knows it could be his mother.

She’s stopped by a few times in the last two years, always without warning, and it’s always awkward, especially with Jared watching them like a hawk in case she pulls one of her “emotional blackmail stunts” as Jared likes to call them. Her cancer is in remission, but she is still scared, and she still seems to think Jensen can and should do something about it. But it’s getting better, he thinks. At least they talk, sometimes about his life now but mostly about the “good old days”, as his mother remembers them, before Nana died, before Jensen met Jared and everything changed. When Jensen was still a good son, if difficult, and she didn’t think of him as a monster. Never mind that he was sad and lonely and basically a prisoner in his own home. She leaves feeling better and doesn’t seem to notice that he always feels worse. Feels terrible in fact, exhausted, and depressed and guilty, and all the things Jared says he shouldn’t feel, but he just can’t help.

It’s not his mother. It’s a timid voice over the intercom, trembling with nerves and hope and what smells like sadness. “It’s Lydia,” it says. “Can we talk?”

“Oh. Sure. Top floor,” he says automatically and buzzes her in. He’s still standing in the hall, staring confused at the intercom when Jared comes up behind him, bare-chested and drying his hair with a damp towel.

“Who is it?”

“Lydia, from the park,” Jensen says and looks up at him. “How does she know where I live?”

Jared shrugs but he does look a bit worried. It’s not like they’re incognito, but they do keep Jensen’s name out of the phonebook, just in case. Not that they really think anyone from the mental health department will come looking for him, not anymore, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.

She’s slightly out of breath and seems nervous when she steps out of the elevator, heart beating way too fast in her chest, but, as soon as Jensen gives her a smile, she relaxes.

“Hi! God, you must think I’m a crazy stalker,” she says and laughs awkwardly. “I mean, I am. sort of. I followed you home. On Friday. I know it’s creepy and weird but… Sorry.” Her smile falters, and suddenly she looks on the verge of crying. “I just…”

“Come on in,” Jensen says gently and opens the door wide. “You look like you could use a nice cup of coffee.”

She follows him into the kitchen where Jared, finally dressed in a t-shirt and soft plaid, is putting out mugs, milk and sugar.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave you two alone to talk,” he says with a smile but Lydia shakes her head.

“Please stay. I kinda need to talk to both of you,” she says as she sits down. “I mean, I was going to talk just to Jensen, but he’ll have to tell you anyway so…” Her voice breaks, and she hides her face in her hands for a moment before looking up with a strained smile. “Sorry, I was going to be all calm and cool, but I guess that’s not happening. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jensen says even if her anxiety is making him increasingly nervous. There’s a rattle from the cupboard and he grabs Jared’s hand under the table, focusing on the still shower-warm softness of his skin, until his mind goes quiet again. Thankfully Lydia seems too distracted to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Jared gives Lydia a reassuring smile. “Would you like some chocolate? I think we should have some chocolate. This feels like a conversation that requires chocolate.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before standing up and fetching a bag of their emergency stash, the one for when Chris starts craving cigarettes, or Jared misses his family, or Jensen can’t stop playing Shostakovich.

They take a moment just sipping their coffee and nibbling at bits of sweet milk chocolate. After a while Lydia takes a deep breath and looks up at Jensen. “I’ve been asked to play at the London City Opera. Next summer.”

Whatever he was expecting it wasn’t that. He grins, feeling stupidly proud at her achievement. “Wow! That’s great! Congratulations.”

She throws him a brief smile. “Thanks. Except I’ll have to say no.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “Why? Do you need money? I’m sure we can figure something out.” He gives Jared an inquiring glance, and he nods in agreement, smiling patiently. “We have some, not much, but we’ll lend you what we can. You _need_ to go. They need to hear your music.”

The smile is genuine this time. She shakes her head, laughing softly. “You know, sometimes I’ve thought I must have made it up, how wonderful you were. But here you are, and you’re just as…” She voice breaks again and she stops. “Thank you, but it’s not really money. It’s… It’s me. I was stupid, and now I have to deal with it.”

She sits back and lays a hand on her stomach, and that’s when he hears it, a second heartbeat, fluttering like hummingbird wings deep inside her belly. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. It’s just me. He was never… It’s just me.”

Jared is the first to recover. He reaches over and gently pats the hand still clutching the coffee mug. “I take it you’re not happy about, about…” He hesitates, and Jensen wants to fill in ‘her,’ but thankfully it stays glued on the tip of his tongue. “…it?”

She laughs tiredly. “God, it’s terrible, isn’t it? I’m terrible. No, I’m not happy. I should be and I feel like the worst person in the world for feeling this way, but I can’t… This is not what my life was supposed to be like. I had a future. A plan.”

“You can still have one,” Jensen says gently. “It might just take longer for you to get there.”

“I’m working day and nightshifts at a diner that pays shitty wages. I can’t even afford an apartment yet, I’m living in one room.” She sighs. “Sorry. I didn’t come here to whine.”

“You could have an abortion,” Jensen says cautiously, even if the thought of that tiny heart not beating anymore, of _her_ being gone, makes him feel so sad he wants to cry. “Or give her up.”

Under the table Jared’s hand suddenly grabs Jensen’s, hard. Jensen blinks. Oh. Oh!

“I was going to, you know,” she says, eyes downcast. “Get rid of it. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. It’s not its fault. And I know this is gonna sound stupid after all I said, but I can’t just… You never know what they will be like, you know. The parents. What if they’re not nice people? What if they’re not the _right_ people? I can’t imagine giving it away and not knowing.”

They sit silent for a moment, her staring at the table, Jensen and Jared careful not to look at each other. Jared keeps squeezing Jensen’s hand tighter and tighter under the table, and Jensen’s heart keeps beating faster and faster in his chest. Neither of them dares to breathe.

Things are not this easy. They’re not. This is just a coincidence. And god, he feels like a predator, even just thinking about it but… “Why did you come here?”

She takes a deep breath and looks up. “Do you believe in Fate?” she says. Her voice is thick, the words heavy as they fall off her tongue, like coins down the slot of a jukebox, her hand hovering above the buttons, waiting to choose her song. Her path.

Jensen thinks of Jared the boy, from so many years ago, who found him against all odds. Of Chris living ten minutes away from where he collapsed, alone and sick as a dog, fifteen years ago. Of this girl sitting down on a bench that day at that precise time, with a child she doesn’t want growing inside her. “Yes,” he says, his stomach clenching. “I do.”

“Well, I think… I think maybe I do, too,” she says. “Because I don’t want to be a mother, not now. And you, you want a child. So much. You deserve to be a father.” She looks at Jared, smiling through her tears. “You both do.” She swallows. “So maybe… Do you think maybe… Because I can’t raise her. God, I really can’t, but if you and, and Jared would…?” Her voice breaks as she starts crying again.

Jensen looks over at Jared. Jared who is gazing at him with tears in his eyes, looking so hopeful and shocked, like he can’t believe this is happening. Jensen tilts his head in question, heart hammering in his chest. When Jared smiles brightly and nods, Jensen lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. Their hold tightens under the table, the decision made.

Jensen lets go and stands up, moving over to the other side to sit beside her. He takes both her hands from her face, and when she looks over at him, face flushed and wet, he looks deep into her eyes and says, “Lydia, it would make me the happiest man in the whole world. But before _you_ decide if this is really what you want, you need to know some things about me.”

~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~

“You can always change your mind,” Jensen says quietly, patting Lydia’s hand where it rests on the bed, waiting for the next contraction. Jared nods in agreement even if he wants to say, ‘No! You can’t take her away from us, not now. It would break Jensen’s heart.’

“I won’t,” she says, smiling, despite being drenched with sweat and exhausted. “This is right. I can feel it. I know it. We met for a reason, Jensen. This was supposed to happen.”

Even Jared has to admit he might have to start believing in Fate and Destiny now. The evidence is becoming overwhelming. In the five months since Lydia moved into their spare room he has watched Jensen go from being a pessimistic panicking doomsayer to practically walking on clouds in anticipation of fatherhood. Apparently he had a dream, which he is sure was a premonition, in which their daughter told him to, “Stop being such a worrywart, Dad, I’ll be fine,” as she was heading to college. In Texas of all places! Well, Jared will have something to say about that. In about 18 years time.

Lydia is hit with another contraction, what looks like a really painful one, and Jared averts his eyes as she pants and groans, feeling awkward and guilty, like he was the one who put her in this situation. Maybe because he’s just standing there, fetching ice chips and rubbing Lydia’s feet every now and then and trying not to be in the way of the midwife who is overseeing the homebirth and bossing them around like a jolly, motherly tyrant.

Jensen, on the other hand, is actually being useful, holding Lydia’s hand and using his mojo to send her calming vibes and probably suppressing the pain as well. Really, it’s cheating. Jared would do that, too, if he could! And now he feels guilty for thinking that, because of course it doesn’t matter how _he_ feels as long as _she_ feels better. Their child’s mother. The mother of their daughter.

Oh, God, he’s going to have a daughter!

He’s thinking of excusing himself, of running out and having a maybe not so quiet panic attack in the bathroom while his husband takes care of everything, the calm bastard, when Jensen suddenly reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it.

“Stay. Trust me, you don’t want to miss this,” he says, like it’s a damn musical show and not a bloody, painful, gory mess!

“I think I’m freaking out,” Jared whispers, but Jensen just shakes his head and pulls him down for a kiss.

“You’re going to be fine,” he says firmly. “We’re going to be fine. All of us,” he adds and gives Lydia a strained smile, patting her arm.

She returns the smile then sucks in her breath, and there they go again. Jensen rests his forehead against Lydia’s as she cries out in pain, whispering words Jared can’t hear but can easily imagine. Truth is, he’s amazed at how in control Jensen is. He hasn’t gone off track once, hasn’t freaked or had any accidents. It’s like he does this every day, help a woman deliver a baby in their spare bedroom! His focus is solely on Lydia, her needs, her feelings, her pain. It’s like there’s no one else in the world.

Jared might be feeling slightly jealous

Which is of course absurd. He’s just as excited himself, and, if he could help more, he would. But this feels a bit like the Jensen and Lydia show, like Jared is only along for the ride. In the back seat. Of a bus.

“Here we go!” says the midwife suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. He makes the mistake of following her excited gaze, and then he has to grab hold of Jensen’s chair because oh my god! The head is crowning. It’s the most amazing, beautiful, _grossest_ thing he’s ever seen!

“Jared!”

He shakes out of his daze to find Jensen gazing at him, eyes bright and wild. He’s clutching Lydia’s hand but reaching out with the other, fingers trembling. The lights flicker. Oh. Oh shit.

Jared grabs Jensen’s hand and squeezes it tight. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

“She’s coming,” Jensen whispers. “Oh God. She’s coming! Jared, I’m not ready.”

And just like that he feels totally calm. “Yes, you are,” he says gently. “You’re absolutely ready. You’ve been amazing.”

Jensen shakes his head. “This is crazy! I’m gonna be a dad! Me!”

“I know. And you’re gonna be the best dad in the world.” They gaze into each other’s eyes, and for a moment the whole world seems to fall away, the noise, and the stuffy air and the smell of blood and sweat…

A sharp angry cry pierces the silence. Jensen’s eyes widen, and far away Central Park explodes into a jungle of flowers.

~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~

“She is so beautiful.” “She is perfect.” “Look at those toes. They’re so tiny!” “And the fingers. Long fingers. Think she’ll want to play the piano?” “I’m sure she will.” “She’s all wrinkly. And so soft.” “But look at that mouth.” “She has your eyes.” “That’s impossible.” “I know. But I still think she does.”

Jensen looks up at Jared and smiles. They’re whispering, both afraid to wake her up, wake them up. She’d been placed in Lydia’s arms as soon as she’d been cleaned and wrapped up and everyone backed away, allowing mother and daughter to have their moment. Lydia had cried, the baby had cried, and then they both fell asleep, absolutely exhausted. And so Jensen and Jared have been waiting, not having the heart to wake them up or take the baby away, not until Lydia is ready. Jared is worried, Jensen can see it in his eyes. He wants to take the child and run away, afraid Lydia will change her mind. Jensen isn’t worried. Even as Lydia was crying into her daughter’s wispy hair, he could tell she was saying goodbye.

He swears then that he’s going to tell his daughter all about her brave mother when she grows up. About how Lydia loved her so much she gave her to them for safekeeping. He never wants either of them to feel resentment towards the other. They have offered Lydia to stay as long as she needs, and then continue to be a part of their life, but she says she’d rather not, that it will be easier on all of them if she leaves as soon as she can and stays away. He hopes she changes her mind. You can never have too many parents, Jensen thinks, never have too many people that love you. He doesn’t want their daughter to ever feel like she missed out on something. As much trouble as his own mother has brought him, he can’t imagine growing up without one.

“We still haven’t decided on a name,” Jared whispers, his gigantic hand stroking the tiny head, gently as not to wake her. They haven’t even had a chance to hold her yet. It’s strange. She’s theirs, Jensen’s name is even on the birth certificate as the father, but somehow she’s not. Not yet. Not until Lydia hands her over.

“I was thinking maybe Ada,” Jensen says. “Remember, like in _The Piano_. For old time's sake.” He looks up at Jared, thinking maybe he’d forgotten, but Jared smiles, and if possible his eyes soften even further as he gazes down on their daughter.

“Ada. I like Ada. It suits her.”

“She can have more than one name,” Jensen points out. “If you were thinking of something else.”

Jared thinks. “How do you feel about Abigail? Is it too much? Both beginning with an A?”

Jensen shakes his head, he can’t stop smiling. “Ada Abigail Ackles-Padalecki. Now there’s a mouthful.”

Jared laughs softly. “I think she can handle it. She looks like a real firecracker.”

As if on cue, Ada opens her eyes, frowning at the dim overhead lights before closing her eyes again as she yawns, the small pink mouth opening and closing like a flower. She lets out a small cry, and her mother snaps awake, disoriented for a second before looking down at the baby in her arms. Her eyes fill with tears. She strokes the baby’s cheek lovingly then looks up at Jensen and Jared who barely dare to breathe, and gives them a tired, sad smile. “I think she wants her daddies,” she says, lifting Ada carefully up, and before Jensen has time to panic the baby in his arms, blinking up at him with dark blue eyes.

“Oh. Hey,” he says softly. “Hey there. I’m your daddy. And that amazing man over there is your dad. Say hello, Dad.”

Jared leans over Jensen’s shoulder, laying his palm gently on Ada’s head. “Hey, Ada.”

“Ada?” Lydia smiles. “It’s beautiful.” She takes Jared’s hand and squeezes it hard then does the same to Jensen. “Thank you. Thank both of you so much. I know you will take good care of her.” She lets go and sinks back on the pillows, closing her eyes. “But if you could please go now. Please. I need to have a cry before my aunt comes to pick me up.”

“Anytime you need it, you will have a home with us,” Jensen says, his voice shaking. “I mean it. You are her mother. Anything you need.”

“I know. Please, Jensen, just go. Go now.”

There are already tears running down her cheeks, and he feels so guilty for being so damn happy. For her misery being the price of their happiness. He stands up carefully, cradling Ada in his arms. He leans over and kisses Lydia on the forehead, trying to give her some peace, some solace. Then the three of them slip quietly out of the room, closing the door behind them.

“Bedroom?” Jensen whispers, and they tiptoe into their own room, laying Ada gently on the bed and curling up on either side, staring down at her with awe.

“We have a daughter,” Jensen says dazed. “Jared, we have a daughter.” He feels slightly faint.

Jared leans over Ada and kisses Jensen softly. “We do. We have the most beautiful daughter in the world. We did it.”

Jensen laughs, feeling half hysterical. “Oh god, we haven’t even started. We have no idea what we’re doing. We’re gonna screw this kid up so bad, aren’t we?”

“In the best way possible,” Jared agrees with a grin.

Jensen touches Ada’s soft cheek carefully. “She is real, right?” he says, suddenly terrified that is he waves his hand she’ll disappear like the baby in his dream. “This is real?”

Jared smiles and strokes his hair gently. “It’s real. It’s all real.”

“I’m still so damn scared,” Jensen admits shakily. “For her. For what I might do to her.”

“I’m not.”

Jensen looks up, wary, but there’s no doubt to find in Jared’s eyes. Jensen can’t help hitching his breath at the trust Jared is placing in him. “How can you not be? I’m so damaged, Jared. You know how damaged I am.”

Jared shrugs easily, he’s long stopped trying to deny what they both know is true. “Maybe. But I also know you are protected. I don’t know how, but you are. And whatever force is protecting you would never allow you or anyone to hurt this child. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life as that.”

Oh. Jensen hadn’t thought of that. “Not even us?” he asks.

Jared smiles. “Okay, maybe us. But ‘us’ is this now. All three of us. This family. And I’m absolutely sure of us.”

Ada burps and they both look down at her, once again lost in awe.

In a little while she will realize she is hungry and demand food, and they’ll have to try the whole formula thing. Then see if changing her diaper is still as difficult as it was on the doll they got at the parenting class. And figure out the best way to hold her, to soothe her, to rock her to sleep. But for now it’s just them in this quiet small bubble of happiness. Jensen looks over and grins when he sees that Jared’s eyes are closed, his mouth open on a silent snore.

“Look at your dad, Ada. You’ve already tired him out, and you’re not even a day old yet.”

He closes his eyes briefly, smiling as he feels the air tremble. When he opens his eyes again they’re in the forest. All around the bed there are creatures – bunnies, birds, fairies, wood people, the unicorn with its foal – all staring down at the baby in wonder. Ada frowns back up at them with bright blue eyes, pink tongue sticking out of her mouth.

“Hey,” Jensen says. “I’d like you all to meet Ada Abigail. Ada, this... is my world.”

fin

Happy 5th anniversary! :)


End file.
